


A Twist in Time

by mobilicordis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Everyone Is Alive, Feels, Order of the Phoenix - Freeform, Sirius Black Lives, Time Turner, post department of mysteries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:25:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8804392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobilicordis/pseuds/mobilicordis
Summary: Harry refuses to accept that Sirius is gone, mostly because he already has a plan to get him back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Harry Potter fic. The premise of this story really only works if things are a li'l different. So, let's pretend Harry finds the mirror the night of Sirius's death. Lets also pretend Dumblydore is a sneaky bastard who keeps a time turner without Ministry permission. Because he's Dumbledore. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!!

 

Harry stared at the broken mirror in disbelief. If only he’d known. All this time, he’d had a way to call Sirius directly. He hadn’t needed to sneak around, sending coded messages or waiting desperately for his godfather to show up in the Gryffindor fireplace in the middle of the night. Anger welled up inside him, causing him to grip at his hair as angry tears leaked from his eyes. Did Dumbledore really expect Harry to just accept that the only father he had ever known was now dead because he was too stupid to distinguish between dreams and reality? Even now, when he just found a way he could have avoided the entire situation? Harry would do anything to reverse what just happened, anything to change his stupid mistakes. 

 

Maybe… maybe he could just go back and… and do it all again? Harry bit his lip, unsure if this plan would go as he wanted it to, but he decided it didn’t really matter at this point anyway. He sprinted back through the castle, up to Dumbledore’s office, and burst in without knocking. The headmaster spun around.

 

“Give me your time-turner,” Harry said coldly, fixing his gaze directly on Dumbledore’s icy blue eyes.

 

The old wizard was caught off guard, whether by Harry’s rapid entrance or the content of his question, he was unsure. “Harry,” Dumbledore said finally, “this is not as easy as you-“

 

“I don’t care anymore. Hand me the time-turner, or I’ll get it myself.” Harry’s voice sounded empty and cold, reflecting how he felt inside. He could see Dumbledore’s face twist in concern, but he was beyond caring.

 

“No, Harry, we have to accept the consequences of our actions and move on.”

 

“ _ He _ shouldn’t have to accept the consequences of  _ my _ stupidity. Now give me the damn time-turner or I’ll…” Harry paused, trying to think of an ultimatum so awful that Dumbledore would have no choice but to help him. He was so empty and hurt that only one option seemed logical. “Give it to me or I’ll kill myself.” Dumbledore’ face broke into an uncharacteristic expression of horror. He clenched his fist and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off. “These are my options, you choose which one I take.” Harry kept his expression void of any emotion other than determination. Tears slipped from his eyes, cutting tracks over the many wounds on his face.  He could see Dumbledore’s eyes change from horror to resignation. Harry smiled in response, raising his wand to his head, his mouth already forming the unforgivable death curse “Avad-“

 

“ _ Expelliarmus! _ ” The wand shot from Harry’s hand, clanking against the wall and floor. “Alright, you can have the time-turner, just stop threatening to hurt yourself.” Harry took a shaky breath, stepping forward and holding out his hand. Dumbledore sighed heavily and turned to a cabinet under Fawkes’ perch, opened a drawer, and pulled out a gold pendant on a chain. He placed it in Harry’s hand, but did not let go. “You must know,” the wizard said gravely, “that terrible things can come from meeting yourself in a different time. Since you are so bent on destroying yourself at this moment, I see no point in trying to stop you. However, because you will change history so greatly that neither of us will exist in this room in a few hours’ time, I need you to give this to your past self when it reaches the current time. You will disappear, as this version of yourself will no longer exist, but the past you will continue living in the timeline you create. This is very dangerous, Harry, but you have proven yourself worthy of a task like this. Five turns will get you back to the beginning of your exam. I will not be here then, so I wish you luck.” With that, he released the time-turner and sat down at his desk.

 

Harry looked at the hourglass in his hand, surrounded by concentric gold circles. He let out a desperate, breathy laugh, clutched the device, grabbed his wand, and ran from the office towards the entrance hall. That was easier than he’d thought, though the old man did say earlier that he cared too much for Harry, so that must have driven him to hand over the magical device. 

 

When Harry reached the Entrance Hall, he jumped off to the side, around the corner, and hid by a pillar. Harry lifted the device, placed his fingers on both sides, and spun it five times. He felt the telltale magical pull behind his navel and found himself whisked off through time.

* * *

 

Light flooded in through the large glass windows when Harry landed. The entrance hall was silent, but he could hear sounds coming from the great hall: gasps, whispers. Then his own voice, and he knew that his past self had awoken from the terrible dream of Sirius being tortured. More sounds, but eventually, past Harry, or now present Harry, burst out of the doors and turned to run towards the hospital wing. Future Harry raced behind him.

 

“Wait!” future Harry called, voice strained. When he did not turn around, he called again “What, Harry, hold on!” Present Harry stopped dead and turned around quickly. His eyes immediately went wide, and he backed away from the other him.

 

“Oi, I  _ have _ lost my bloody mind!” present Harry groaned.

 

“No, you haven’t,” future Harry replied, walking up to himself. His breath was coming in gasps now.  _ This is so bizarre, _ he thought. “I’m here to help. I have to change what will happen in a few hours’ time.”

 

“How did you get here? Back here, in time, I mean. And what happened to you?” In answer, Harry held up the time-turner. Other him gasped and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry wasn’t having it. His true purpose flared in his mind and panic was rising in his stomach. He ran forward, grabbed his own arm, and ran toward Gryffindor tower.

 

“Where are we going?” present Harry yelled.

 

“To do what I should have done weeks ago!” Future Harry replied, voice shaking.

 

“But we have to save Sirius!”

 

“What the  _ bloody  _ hell do you think I’m doing?” The two Harry’s passed through the hole behind a portrait of a very confused Fat Lady and ran into the dorm. Future Harry raced to his trunk and pulled it onto the bed, he rifled through it until he pulled out the mirror Sirius had given him.

 

“Hey, that’s- OH!” present Harry said, coming over to investigate. Future Harry was already sobbing, tears running over his bloodied cheeks, and he could see himself watching him from the corner of his eye. He gave the note on the back of the package one last look before he ripped the paper off the mirror and turned it around.

 

“SIRIUS!” future Harry screamed at the glass, putting all his fear and anger and self-loathing into the cry. “SIRIUS BLACK, PLEASE ANSWER ME!” Other Harry had fallen to his knees, looking at hysterical Harry as though he were mad. But that didn’t matter.

 

The surface of the glass fogged and then cleared, revealing not Harry’s disturbed reflection, but a seemingly perfect window into twelve Grimmauld Place, and he was soon staring into the slate gray eyes of his godfather.

 

“Harry! I thought you’d forgotten abou- HARRY? WHAT IN MERLIN’S NAME HAPPENED TO YOU?” his godfather cried, looking as though he was going to try to shove his head through the mirror. Harry couldn’t answer, he was breathing too hard, his throat closed with emotion “Tell me what’s happened! Are you alright? Are you safe?” Sirius was pleading with Harry for answers, but he just nodded his head, unable to take his eyes off of his godfather. Sirius sighed, looking down for a second to collect himself, and then back at his godson’s horror-stricken face. “I need you to calm down, Harry, I need to know what’s happened.” It was at this moment that present Harry understood what was happening and sat beside himself on the bed shakily, leaning over to see his godfather as well. Sirius froze with his jaw slack as he looked back and forth between the two boys, one who appeared to be having a mental breakdown and one who looked just as confused and awed as Sirius now felt.

 

“Harry James Potter,  _ what  _ have you done _? _ ” Sirius breathed slowly. He looked terrified, making present Harry nervous, but future Harry seemed more relieved than ever.

 

“I-I-I had this horrible vision, and then I… and you…” and future Harry trailed off, holding up the time-turner from his pocket. Sirius set his jaw.

 

“Why, Harry? Why have you done this?” Harry knew Sirius wasn’t mad, he was just as aware of the dangers of meddling with time as he was.

 

“Look,” future Harry said, getting a grip on himself, “I can’t explain, there isn’t time. Death eaters are going to the Ministry right now, to the Department of Mysteries. Can you contact Dumbledore?”

 

“Yes, Harry, but-“

 

“There isn’t time! They’re going to the Ministry to take the weapon. I know because I saw it happen the first time! You have to warn Dumbledore, tell the Order, Voldemort’s coming as well!”

 

“Okay, Harry, I’ll tell them. In the meantime, I want both of you here as soon as possible. Do you have a floo anywhere?”

 

“Yes, we do,” both Harrys said at once.

 

“In Umbridge’s office,” present Harry added.

 

“But that didn’t go so well last time,” future Harry muttered.

 

“I’m going to talk to Dumbledore and tell him what’s happened. I want both of you here in five minutes. Keep the mirror with you. I’ll see you soon.”

 

“NO!” future Harry cried. “Don’t go!” but Sirius’ face had already disappeared from the glass, so he was looking back at himself again. He turned to the unharmed and confused version of himself he was sitting by.

 

“What happened to you- er- to us?” present Harry asked softly.

 

“I’ll explain… later. I’ll take the invisibility cloak, but I need you to get as many D.A. members as you can together and form a plan to get Umbridge out of her office and keep away the Inquisitor’s Squad. We need to get into that office alone.”

 

Seven minutes later, Harry and Harry were alone in Umbridge’s lacy and cat-covered office, throwing the invisibility cloak off of themselves. Future Harry rushed to the basket of floo powder by the hearth and threw some in the fire, yelling, “Twelve Grimmauld Place,” and stepping into the roaring green flames. He again whisked through a vortex with a force in his stomach and landed heavily on the floor of his destination.

 

He pushed himself up weakly and looked around as his previously- (or maybe eventually, this time-turner stuff was messing with his head) dead godfather stuck his head into the room, his hair wild and face taut. Harry stood and ran to Sirius, throwing himself against the man’s chest. Tears once again came to his eyes, but these were tears of joy. He did it, he saved Sirius, and he didn’t have to die in the process! Sirius’ strong arms gripped him so tight he felt as though he was suffocating again, but he couldn’t seem to care. Sirius was here, alive, and the terrible, ragged hole of guilt and depression in his chest was once again filled with love for Sirius.

 

He heard his other self let out an “oof” as he landed on the floor as well.

 

Sirius raised his head from where it was buried in his godson’s hair to look over the other version of the boy who had just fallen through his fireplace. Noting the lack of bleeding cuts on this version’s face, he concluded that it was the hysterical one he was now clutching madly to his chest. Reluctant to let go of the tender moment, but feeling the immediate need to make sure the boy was okay, Sirius gripped Harry’s shoulders and forced the teen away from him. Harry gasped and clawed at Sirius’ jacket, desperate to keep holding on, but Sirius pushed him away further, thrusting a hand under the boy’s jaw to turn his face upward and into the light; what he saw terrified him. The fifteen-year-old was bleeding from multiple deep cuts on his face, but that wasn’t the worst bit. His  _ eyes _ . They were absolutely mad with fear, relief, guilt, sadness, anger, and desperation. Sirius knew instantly that this boy, this future version of his godson, had suffered something terrible, unspeakable. Godfather pushed willing godson back into a tight embrace.

 

Somehow Sirius got both Harrys to sit on the couch of the drawing room, one teen shaking uncontrollably while the other looked on in detached fear for himself. He pushed a glass of water into each of their hands and sat beside the future Harry, placing a comforting hand on his knee. Harry seemed to push his whole body into the touch, though he would not look Sirius in the eye when he asked, so the man turned to the oddly quiet other version of his godson.

 

“Care to explain?” he asked patiently. The teen looked to be at a loss for words, but opened his mouth all the same.

 

“I- er- I was in the middle of my History of Magic O.W.L.,” present Harry began, his voice shaky as he stared at his future counterpart. “It was awfully boring, and I nodded off. I-I had a vision.” He paused, embarrassed to share the next part, as he had no idea what had become of himself after he left the Great Hall.

 

“I know, you- er-  _ he  _ told me,” said Sirius, gesturing to the other teen, who now looked at the both of them, apparently calming down.

 

“I was in the hallway, the dark room I mentioned before. I walked all the way into the room with the glass things on the shelves. I walked right down an aisle of them and…” his voice caught, he felt sick remembering the vision. Obviously other him did as well, as they both shuddered sharply, causing Sirius to look between them worriedly.

 

“What was there, Harry? What happened?”

 

“Y-you. You were there. He, Voldemort… I was…  _ hurting you. _ He-I-used the cruciatus curse. You were in so much pain, it looked so real. He wanted you to get something for him. Something he couldn’t touch. He was torturing you into getting it, and I couldn’t stand it!” Present Harry found himself shaking almost as much as the other him. Sirius was appalled, yet secretly flattered, both simply because the idea of himself being tortured had affected Harry so deeply. He wanted to reach out to the other version of his godson, but he looked closed off; Sirius decided it would be best to leave him be.

 

Besides, at that moment, his fireplace erupted green yet again. Out shot Dumbledore, catching himself gracefully and standing to his full height in the room. Despite the urgency of Sirius’s call, Dumbledore seemed to have kept his calm and wise demeanor, looking over the odd situation before him as if he dealt with double versions of his students on a daily basis.

 

Dumbledore stepped to the side as the flames rose again, this time spitting out the exhausted-looking form of Remus Lupin. The latter was unable to catch himself and fell to his hands and knees on the wooden floor. Dumbledore bent and grasped his upper arm, pulling the man to his feet. Sirius rose to greet both of the newcomers, leaving a hand on the couch beside future Harry.

 

“Moony? What are you doing here? The full moon was only days ago, shouldn’t you be resting?”

 

The ragged lycanthrope opened his mouth to answer, but Dumbledore beat him to it. “I contacted Remus directly after your call. I assumed that, as the matter involved Harry and had apparently disturbed you greatly, you would do well to have another mutual friend here for support. Now, I believe we have here a case of time-turner abuse, is it?” He added the last part, turning to look at the two Harrys trembling on the couch. The two Marauders followed his gaze, and Lupin’s eyes went wide with shock.

 

“I-I knew something bad had to have happened,” Lupin began, “for Dumbledore to call, but I had no idea…” He stepped forward, putting a hand on his animagus friend’s shoulder. “The two of them look like they’ve been through hell and back,” he whispered to Sirius. The other man could only nod. In unspoken agreement, the three adult wizards all moved to sit around the identical teens.

 

“Dumbledore!” present Harry said feverishly. “Death Eaters will be at the Ministry of Magic in a few hours, and Voldemort soon after. You have to get someone there to stop them. They’re going to take the weapon!”

 

“Harry, whatever timeline you came from, I believe that the vision you saw was meant to draw you to the Ministry so that the Death Eaters could use you to fulfill their purpose. If you do not go, which you cannot, as you are sitting here right now, they will have no reason to go tonight. I will contact Professor Snape and see to it that someone is watching the Ministry, but I believe we have no reason to fear.” With that, Dumbledore turned back to the fireplace, threw in some floo powder, and stuck his head into the emerald flames. Unable to hear the conversation on the other side, Sirius and Remus turned their attention back to the Harrys.

 

“Harry, what happened after your vision? Did you really think Voldemort had kidnapped me?” Sirius could see Remus stiffen as he asked the question, but he did not take his eyes off of his godson’s faces. 

 

“Of course I did. I had to. If I hadn’t believed my other vision, Mr. Weasley would be-,” present Harry’s voice broke off, only for his sentence to be completed by his weaker counterpart.

 

“ _ Dead! _ ” future Harry cried, pounding his fists on his legs. He was stiff and his face looked strained, like he was holding back emotion. Lupin reached out and placed a comforting hand on the teen’s wrist. Harry sagged forward, staring down at a spot on the floor.

 

The Marauders exchanged looks while Dumbledore stood up from the fire and took a seat in a chair on the opposite side of the room. “What happened next?” Sirius asked the more stable of the two.

 

“H-he showed up. And we ran up to the dorm to call you,” present Harry finished, looking over at himself sadly. Everyone’s attention was turned towards future Harry.

 

“What did you do, cub? How did you get here?” Remus asked future Harry.

 

The questioned teen stared at the floor, taking deep breaths, and as Sirius was about to repeat his friend’s question, he answered. “I- I convinced the D.A. that you were in danger,” future Harry said, looking up pitifully into Sirius’s eyes. “I got Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna to come with me. I know it was stupid, they could have been killed, but I needed help. We- we flew on the thestrals to the Ministry.”

 

“Thestrals?” Sirius asked, looking to Dumbledore.

 

“Horse-like creatures that pull the carriages to the school when the children leave the train. They can only be seen by those who have witnessed a death,” the old wizard answered calmly, but Sirius could tell he was thinking very hard about something. He turned back to his godson.

 

“Cedric, not Mum and Dad,” present Harry said weakly to answer Lupin’s questioning look. The latter nodded.

 

“We made it down to the Department of Mysteries, I was sure you were dead by this point, my scar hurt so bad. He- he was happy. I thought it was because he’d hurt you. We ran through room after room, I couldn’t find you. There was a tank of brains, a room full of clocks and time turners, and a room with a stone amphitheater of sorts, with a…” The teen trailed off, and looked up at Sirius again. He held out his hand and Sirius grasped it, ready to comfort Harry in any way he could. The teen now had a hand in both of the Marauders’, and, with this lifeline, he seemed ready to continue his story. “We finally found the room with the orbs. We ran all through, trying to find you, but there was no evidence that anyone had been there for months.

 

“Ron found one with my name on it, one of the orbs I mean, and we assumed that was what Voldemort wanted. I took it. Then, about ten Death Eaters burst through the door, and we scattered. We ran through the Department. The brains attacked Ron, and Hermione was jinxed, and I thought she was dead. Ginny broke her ankle. Neville got pretty beat up, he was shaking and couldn’t stand up. Malfoy used the cruciatus curse.” Harry’s speech sped up so much in his fervor that the end of his sentence came out in a blur of words.

 

Everyone gasped, and present Harry looked particularly horrified. “Was it as bad as the first time?” he asked softly. Sirius felt a chill go through him, and his horror was mirrored on Lupin’s face.

 

“The  _ first time?!? _ ” Sirius asked hoarsely.

 

“Voldemort used it on me after he killed Cedric to try and get me to duel him. It was…  _ horrible _ ,” present Harry whispered. Sirius felt tears of anger and sadness for his godson prick his eyes.

 

“He used it on Neville this time. It  _ was  _ horrible,” future Harry continued. “Everyone else made it into the hallway with all the doors, but Neville and I got stuck in the amphitheater room. The Death Eaters cornered us. We did our best, and they were scared to hurt me, they thought I would break the prophecy.”

 

“Wait… prophecy?” Sirius asked, sure he had missed something.

 

“It was in the sphere. That’s what Voldemort wanted, he thought it was important for some reason.”

 

“Harry, where is this prophecy now?” Dumbledore asked.

 

“I- I broke it. Neville fell when the cruciatus curse missed me and hit him, and I reached out to catch him, but I accidently dropped it. No one heard it though, because the Order came running in to help us. Of course, you were there, and you’d never been in the Ministry at all.” Harry turned to look at Sirius with this last sentence, guilt and self-hatred evident in his eyes. At a loss as to what to do, Sirius squeezed his godson’s hand.

 

“It’s okay, Harry. You wanted to make sure I was okay. I’m grateful for that.” Sirius hoped his godson would continue, but Harry seemed unable to do so.

 

Without warning, the teen burst into body-wracking sobs. Other Harry flinched away, Remus froze, but Sirius stood up from where he was half-kneeling and had his arms around Harry in a second. He pressed Harry’s dark head into his chest, stroking his unruly hair, trying to steady the shaking boy. Harry gripped at his clothes, anything to touch Sirius, to remind himself that he was  _ right there _ , he was  _ alive! But he wouldn’t have died in the first place if you weren’t such an idiot,  _ Harry thought. He managed to breathe normally again, though tears of despair still rolled down his face. He took a deep breath and pulled away from Sirius.

 

“You alright, Prongslet?” Sirius asked concernedly. Harry nodded and shrugged at the same time. Then shook his head slowly. Sirius sighed. “If you tell us, we can figure it out together. You know you don’t have to keep it to yourself.”

 

Harry stared into his godfather’s eyes for several moments, just watching the strong emotions swirling in his storm-cloud eyes. When Harry was certain he saw love swimming its way through the gray depths, that he hadn’t just imagined it, he wanted to sob again, but he was too spent. “You did it, you came, you fell… for me,” Harry whispered.

 

“What was that, Har’?” Remus asked, leaning forward.

 

“I’m so stupid! I don’t deserve you,” Harry said louder, looking between both of his guardians. No one knew how to answer this, but Harry continued to speak. “Anyway, the Order fought the Death Eaters with all they had. Tonks was hurt.” Remus’ hands clenched at this. “Moody took a hit to the head, but we held our own fairly well. Then, Sirius, you had to fight Bellatrix, down by the arch in the chamber.” 

 

“That was the veil, Harry, a window between the land of the living and the abyss of the dead,” Dumbledore answered. Sirius looked between the two with fear in his eyes, and Harry thought he must know what was coming next.

 

Harry began to shake again, knowing what he would have to say next. “She tried to stun you, but you dodged. She hit you  _ straight on  _ the second time.” His voice cracked. His throat closed and he spoke again with a much higher, strained voice. “I tried to- to get to you, Sirius, but- but I wasn’t fast enough. You fell, straight back into the veil. Remus tried to hold me back, tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t believe, I wouldn’t believe you were… you were…  _ gone. _ ” 

 

Harry had spoken so fast that Sirius hadn’t grasped a word of what his godson was saying until the final, choked-out word: a single syllable that broke Sirius’ heart, shattered in into fragments. Again, he scooped up his weak godson into his arms, holding him as tight as he could. All of this, because Harry had seen him die. All of these hysterics, risking his life to come back in time and reverse his actions. If Sirius had thought it possible that he could not love Harry more that he already did, he was so very wrong. The skinny boy he had wrapped up in his arms was the best thing that had ever happened to him, surely, and Harry was now wrong as well. It was Sirius that did not deserve the love of his godson, not the other way around. Sirius realized that Harry was speaking again, his voice muffled through Sirius’s clothes.

 

“-nd I ran after her, up to the lobby, and Dumbledore found me there. Then Voldemort showed up. He nearly killed me, with the killing curse, but Dumbledore saved me. They fought, and Voldemort’s snake wrapped itself around me. It was awful, worse than cruciatus, the worst pain I can imagine. I was possessed. I wanted to die. I asked Dumbledore to kill me, I would be with you again, but it was over before I knew it.” Harry paused to take a few gasping breaths.

 

“Sirius, Sirius stop,” Remus said, pulling at his friend’s shoulder. “Let go, Sirius, you’re hurting him.” When the words sunk in, Sirius jumped like he’d been burned. He released the vice of his arms and Harry sagged back. Instead, Sirius felt his legs give out and he fell to the floor, his forehead falling forward onto Harry’s knees. He couldn’t look into his godson’s eyes, he felt so guilty. But they were together, neither had died.

 

“After a while,” Harry continued in a cold whisper, “we got back to Hogwarts, and I ended up deciding that you didn’t need to stay dead. I demanded the time-turner from Dumbledore, threatened to kill myself for it, and here I am.” The room was still for a time, no one spoke, no one moved, it seemed as though no one even dared to breathe. Future Harry, who was soon going to become nonexistent Harry, looked from the top of his godfather’s head to Remus. The man was sitting with his knees up, hands clasped around them. He wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes.

 

“Why didn’t you just contact me and ask if I was alright? I’m surprised you didn’t use your mirror sooner,” Sirius said, breaking the silence.

 

“If I’m being honest, I forgot about it. Of course, I tried to floo you, and Kreacher told me you weren’t here. I found the mirror when I got back.”

 

Dumbledore stood, walking forward. “Are you aware of how long you have left here?” he asked future Harry, who looked towards the large clock across the room.

 

“A few hours. Oh! That reminds me-” Harry replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the time-turner, placing it into Dumbledore’s outstretched hand. With that, Dumbledore bade them farewell.

 

“Come along, Harry. We must be getting you back to the school. You do still have an end of year celebration.” Dumbledore spoke to the present Harry, who stood numbly, muttering goodbyes to the others in the room before following Dumbledore to the floo.

 

After several minutes of silence, Remus stood and walked out of the room.

 

Sirius lifted his head, running his fingers through his hair. He stood and sat beside his godson on the couch, pulling the boy into his chest again.

 

“You’re fifteen for Merlin’s sake. When I was your age, all I had to worry about was how much bribery it would take for McGonagall to let me out of detention. You’ve had to grow up so much since we’ve met again, and I know your father would be proud beyond words. You, Harry, are possibly the bravest person I have ever met. I love you so much, prongslet. Have since the day I laid eyes on you.” They fell into a loving silence until Remus returned with a tray of tea.

 

“Severus floo’d. The ministry caught ten Death Eaters attempting to break into the Department of Mysteries,” Remus said, setting down the tray and handing out cups. “They’re being sent to Azkaban as we speak.” Silence fell again, until Sirius spoke up.

 

“Moony, I think it’s time we tell Harry how the Marauders met, what do you think?”

 

“Of course, Pads.”

 

“So, it all started on the Hogwarts Express, Remus asleep in a compartment before the train even left King’s Cross…”

 

Sirius and Harry leaned back into the cushions of the couch, and Remus and Sirius recounted their first few days at Hogwarts.

 

“Sirius,” Harry said after a time. The animagus turned towards his godson to see him fading, his colors blending into those of the couch.

 

“Thank you, Harry. Thank you.” And Harry was gone, his corner of the couch empty, though the creases on the couch and the tear-wetted spot on the collar of Sirius’s shirt that Harry had created still remained to prove the reality of this impossible night.

 


End file.
